


angel dust

by AikoIsari



Series: The Legacy of Great Intention [7]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Frontier, Digimon Story (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Growing Up, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AikoIsari/pseuds/AikoIsari
Summary: The three angels, all having fallen in one way or another, are now returned to their beginnings to try again anew. But the Digital World doesn't have time to wait for them to grow so they must reclaim themselves as quickly as possible. So, when in doubt, travel to another world and get help. It'll work!





	1. Coloration

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! More fun life with Koh. And by fun I mean, Koh is a little snot who I love very much. Let's see him raise some baby digis for a while. Or somewhat baby Digis. This is a Moon interlude too. If you've read through it, you'll probably know who a few characters are. If not, well, meet them here and then go back and read Moon! It's a very exciting story (shameless plug). There are a couple of details relating to my friend Onixflame's ZH universe too, but they are very limited as this is a fic I do not everything about!Anyway, please enjoy and leave a review! I love them so. and thanks so much for stopping by.
> 
> Challenges: Epic Masterclass (Frontier) 10. Wild Card, Tale of Fragments 100 prompts, easy list 3, Valentine's Advent 2015 (lilac), advent 2015 day 3, three box challenge, Diversity Writing CHallenge K6, New Years Long Haul. Ficlet Endurance and New YEars Mini Advent.

The world beneath their paws is sparkling, new. So fresh. So many babies to hatch, so many patches of land to till and grow on. It spreads out, seemingly into forever.

The Legendary Warrior Spirits float behind five small creatures. They are all weeping a little, the fifth's white paws covering his face as he sobs noisily into the dirt. His yellow friend pats him on the shoulder, tears falling down his face from the slits of his eyes. The other three look at each other with big, worried eyes. Patamon quivers from his spot on the Lopmons head, thinking about words, before the Plotmon pup halts him with a shake of her oversized head. He stops and looks mournfully at him.

"Papa-mom is crying," he points out, just softly enough to avoid being overheard. "It's our fault."

"It's that _angel_ 's fault." Her soft, gentle voice is steel. "And they had to go home. Digimon are bad for their world in many ways. They won't be good for ours forever."

Patamon's bat wing ears droop as he shrinks down. She's right. He's been with them the longest. He knows.

"Besides," she continues and she's smiling a little, trying to cheer herself up. "They have lives to live, like we do."

The three of them find themselves drawn to the lion man, who is staring at where the crack had been in space. Lopmon twitches and both Digimon move to place an extra paw (or wing in Patamon's case) on his great brown ears to stop him.

It's that motion that causes him, and the other warriors as well, to look at them with sudden interest. He nods, slowly.

"Then we need to act," Lopmon says with a surprising amount of firmness for his high voice. "We need to help. One more time."

Patamon and Plotmon beam at him and they join their paws in a circle.

Patamon thinks Bokomon lifts his head to look, but soon he can't pay too much attention. The rush of power, the thrum that's helped them all so many times, that's filled them when the right time comes, is here, and it isn't going to wait. So they won't give it a chance to try.

Plotmon throws back her head and howls loud and long, voice taking to the skies, to space and time, as it had done once before. Patamon looks at them both and feels not… not triumphant exactly, but reading. Waiting. Hopeful. He smiles.

Plotmon can't, but Lopmon smiles back at him with pride and joy and delight in his face. For once, it's not directed towards one of them alone. Patamon remembers that, recalls it deep in his heart.

But that time is over. There is a new time now. That is why Digimon hatch again.

Plotmon lets out another howl, this one sad, containing the tears that have been drying on her face. She's been strong without them, or against them, so strong. Patamon listens to her voice as the power flows out and up and far away. It spirals, with love, with everything they have. Soon it will close on them.

And then what?

They're effectively babies. They can't run an entire world. The _goddess_ and her family couldn't run an entire world. The king can't run an entire world.

Sure would be nice if they could help though

The power fades very slowly, leaving the three digimon drooping in the grass. Lopmon murmurs his exhaustion. As adults, they wouldn't feel this. They can't feel this. They need to grow up, and fast.

But where would they start?


	2. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For prompt 3 - time

Everything feels slow.

They're all slumped underneath the biggest tree they can find in the growing forest of beginnings. It's hardly a forest, barely a glade. It's shelter for the night though, and they can make a fire. Bokomon and Naemon are quite good at it, which is a relief. Plotmon has no thumbs so she's useless in anything but gathering sticks, as dogs do.

Lopmon almost says it but doesn't. Later, when they're not hungry and sleepy. Later, when they're safe and everything's real, they'll talk and be normal and friends again. Whenever that will be.

He hopes that it's soon. He really, truly does.

The spirits are gone when Patamon wakes to get a drink of water. He's not surprised. Disappointed maybe, but he knows it can't be helped. He knows they have more important, better things to do even than hang out with a small group of babies, even if they are babies who saved the world only hours ago. Their humans are gone anyway, lingering would not be the best of options. They might be asked to save the world again. As it is now, no one knows who the legendary warriors are because no one has been born to regard them as heroes. No one except them… for the moment.

He wanders the trees slowly, looking for the nearest slow river area. As the sound gets closer and closer, he lets out a soft, weary sigh and stopped for a moment. How much time had passed on the other side already? Probably none. They must have been saved from that thing, from those people. He had to believe that was the case. Patamon raises his wings and keeps trotting until he reaches the cool water smell that he knows so well.

He leans forward and slurps up the water with quick, greedy swallows. It's cold and satisfying going down his throat. It was all so fresh and new…

And now it was on their heads to revive it and make it anew. There was no one to create a war of humans and beasts, no Lucemon to unite a bunch of babes (not that he would really need to right now) no Legendary Warriors to do anything self-sacrificial, just these few Children and their memories to save this continent.

"We're doomed," he says before he can stop himself. He takes another gulp of water.

"I do believe you said that the last time."

His ears twitch as Plotmon pads out to the clearing.

"I did?" He frowns. "I guess I did." He doesn't really remember those times. He remembers being Seraphimon, old and powerful and wise, but he doesn't remember what he did as Seraphimon."

"Maybe." Plotmon giggles, a series of soft barks that make him smile. "It was a long time ago." She walks past him and dips her head to get a drink of water. It looks silly, now that he's looking. He can't understand how she's standing up. He lets out a snort at the image. At her puzzled expression, he waves his ears. "How do you stand up like that?" She frowns and he gestures to her head with a paw.

Plotmon tilts her oversized head before countering with, "How do you?"

"Because I just-" Patamon stops, puzzled, and Plotmon grins, turning up her nose in smug victory.

They both giggle.

"Agree to not figure it out?" Patamon eventually says. Papamom might know, but he doubts it.

"Yeah, let's not." She beams at him and he smiles back.

Then the small glade is rocked with an explosion of light and sound.


	3. Legality

Formative weeks of being surrounded by battles and memories of long past battle experience all contribute to Patamon's very simple and obvious first thought: we're under attack.

He then dismisses this thought, not because it's wrong, but because it doesn't make sense. The world hasn't even been alive for a week. Even babies take time to evolve enough to be remote threats.

Still, whatever it is, it's not far. So he's going to investigate. Patamon takes off to do so, leaving Plotmon squeaking after him. He hopes she thinks to get the others since he's sure not doing it!

When he reaches the source of the fading light, Patamon pauses to duck behind a tree. Humans. Or what looked like them. Patamon's nose had been nothing on Lopmon's in any way, but he did know when things weren't how they looked, and these two sure smelled like it. They smelled somewhere in the middle, and that sure wasn't normal.

The first offered a hand to the second, smaller one, who took it after a couple wavering moments. Her hand fumbles but she catches hold and lets him drag her up. "How bad was it, Coach?" they -she- asks, head turning loosely from side to side.

"For using freshly reset coordinates off of Folder?" The older boy grunts. He has such fluffy orange hair. Patamon has never seen such a color on a human before… then again, he has only met six in his life. "Coulda been worse. Feel like barfing?"

"Yeah, on your shoes." The girl sways and swats the boy on the arm after a signle right steps. "Fine. You're a genius. We know."

He returns fire by driving a fist into snow-white hair. "Yes, I am. The best of the best. Whatever. Most of that was Raigo anyway." He lifts what looks like a box. Patamon squints in the dark, but Plotmon lets out a sharp breath of air.

"D-Scanners," she says. Lopmon flops down on her right then and they nearly buckle at the weight. Patamon rushes to steady them, ears wide to catch sound of his papamom and Neemon. What if these people were dangerous? They had just teleported into the clearing, something even the Legendary Spirits struggled to do. There wasn't any residue or anything either. Even they, as Great Angels, did not employ the method often. It was a waste of energy for anything but the greatest of emergencies.

So if they could do that without being winded… what _else_ could they do?

"There are beeps over by that tree." the girl said suddenly, head cocking in their direction. The digimon froze.

Apparently they could also sense things that were trying to be quiet. That hadn't worked out.

The older boy lets out a snort. "You said beeps."

"Baby Digimon, _whatever_." The girl makes a face. "Seriously, you make cow eyes at my sister and _I'm_ the one saying dumb shit?"

"I do not!"

"Uh-huh." She moves towards them, and the three digimon makes to scramble away, but she was somehow _already in front of them._ "Allo," she says. "Yer a bunch of little holy derps, huh?"

Patamon's meager strength gives way and the three of them topple over, right onto the approaching Bokomon and Neemon.

 _So much for grand, holy spirits,_ Plotmon thinks to herself.

Unfortunately, that helpless state left them very open to capture and none of them had the energy or attacks to prevent being scooped up into too-thin arms and carried to a brilliant bright light. The second Plotmon makes to resist, darkness covers their eyes and drags them down.


End file.
